His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 154

"Didn't you just say you didn't want to owe me a favor and wanted to repay me? Now you're—"

Before Preston Winslow could finish, Niamh was already pushing him out the door.

"When you've made up your mind, let me know. I don't owe you anything."

With a loud slam, she shut the door in his face. Left standing in the hallway, Preston scratched the back of his head, feeling a wave of disappointment.

He drove back to the office. On his way, he passed a small market and grabbed a breakfast wrap to stave off his hunger.

He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for himself. He'd done the right thing, hadn't he? But Niamh had shown zero gratitude, and there wasn't even a shred of benefit in it for him.

He'd skipped breakfast, and now lunch was a sorry excuse for a meal. Back at the office, Preston was about to tell his secretary to book him a lavish dinner that evening, but she interrupted him first.

"Jonathan's waiting for you in your office."

"Jonathan! What brings you here?"

Seeing Jonathan, Preston felt a twinge of guilt he couldn't quite explain.

After all, he had spent the night under the same roof with Niamh—alone. And Niamh was still technically Jonathan's wife.

But he hadn't done anything wrong.

Besides, everyone knew Jonathan and Niamh's marriage was all but over, the divorce just a matter of paperwork.

Preston cleared his throat and tried to look composed.

Jonathan put down his coffee and asked casually, "Zachary said you were out partying with some mystery woman last night and wouldn't answer his calls. He insisted I come by and check up on you."

"Wow, Zachary's got guts, bossing you around like that!" Preston sat down across from Jonathan and picked up a file, feigning nonchalance.

"I was out on business last night. Entertaining some clients."

"Our notorious Mr. Winslow, finally turning over a new leaf?" Jonathan teased.

Preston clicked his tongue. "Hey, I run a company too, you know. If you're the golden boy of trust fund kids, then I'm at least the hard-working type by comparison!"

Jonathan gave a thin smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

His phone was sitting right in front of him.

Just an hour earlier, he'd received a WhatsApp message from Prescott.

Last night, Prescott had waited outside Niamh's apartment all night.

He never saw Preston leave.

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